Page 120 of A Vow of Embers

The goddess creating those dreams was the only logical explanation. When Xander had first told me that we were both actually in our dreams together, he had also told me that the goddess connected us. Maybe he had been right. I should ask him about it.

Io had made it sound as if sex were the only thing that men ever thought or cared about. If that was true ... had Xander imagined doing those things with me? Did he dream about touching me? Kissing me? Undressing me?

Being inside me?

The ache I had for him intensified and I was feverish. Heated.

The hour grew later and later and still he hadn’t returned. I felt restless, untethered. Frustrated.

Kunguru cawed out on my balcony, loudly. I ignored him, thinking he would fly away. But then he did it again. And a third time.

Given the position of the moon in the sky, the hour was very late. I didn’t want him to wake the entire palace up.

“Be quiet!” I called to him.

He cawed again.

I threw off my blanket and went out onto the balcony. “What are you doing?” I asked him.

He cocked his head to the left, but he had finally quieted.

“Is this what you want? For me to be out here with you?” Such a particular bird. I took a step toward him.

Kunguru let out three short caws and then flew away quickly.

Annoying. I was about to turn and go back inside when I saw a figure move at the far end of the courtyard. My heart beat quickly, worried that there was another attacker watching me and waiting.

But Xander was the one who stepped out into the moonlight.

He didn’t see me. Blood rushed hotly through my veins at the sight of him. My breath caught, stuttering in my chest, and then came out in short, heavy pants. I willed him to look up at the balcony. To see me.

To come up here, carry me to our bed, and then we would ...

Another figure stepped out into the courtyard.

Chryseis.

Bile rose in the back of my throat. My mind immediately went to far-fetched and insecure places. I told myself that it was an accident. A coincidence. Two people out for a walk at the same time.

But what if it was some secret assignation?

If it was, it was very foolish to do it in view of our bedroom. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I saw her leaning over his hurt arm, gently touching it. Then she reached up and brushed his dark hair from his eyes and I was going to cut her hand off for daring to touch him.

I expected him to step back. To stop her. Instead she moved even closer, pushed up on her toes, and kissed him softly.

My heart completely stopped and I had to cling to the railing so that I didn’t fall to my knees.

She lowered back down, waiting to see what he would do. He stood still, watching her.

Then she kissed him again and it was another knife to my gut.

I waited for him to push her away but he did not.

The seconds passed, and with each one that dragged by, I realized with a rising sense of horror that he wasn’t going to end the kiss. She threaded her arms around his neck and I gasped when his hands went to her waist, holding her close.

Kissing her back.

I turned and stumbled into our bedroom, shutting the door. I crawled into my bed and pulled the blanket over my head. Why was I such a fool? How many times did he have to hurt me before I understood the reality of my situation?